Cory was pouring himself a glass of orange juice in the usually bustling, lustfully scented apartment. He ignored the smell of sex that permeated the air tauntingly. After a few months of living with him, the halfling had learned to freeze his heart – freeze his longing; it was surprisingly easy as he had done the same the night he left his ex-pack three months ago. He had become relatively acquainted with the man who helped him in the alley three months back: Mark Oveus. Mark was a very sexual person; he was polyamorous – enjoying not being tied to one partner but switching them according to his desires...
He sat on the grey marble countertop, swinging his legs as he sipped his orange juice. He would’ve had coffee, but decided it would be a reward at the library. Routinely – come relentless rain or hazy sunshine – the semi-sorcerer would venture to the public library. He would lose himself in the history of the ancients’ and their magical practices – learning the basics before advancing. Many of the texts he had found were focussed on the neopagan revival. Drawing a circle, invoking Nature Herself, asking for blessings – the list goes on. It was an interesting read, Cory had admitted, but not the kind of ancient magic he was looking to research.
There was a clear distinction between humans and sorcerers casting a spell; a difference that flowered in their very different genetic coding. Humans practicing the magical arts relied on incantations of the verbal nature – paying respects to their two or more deities. Although rewarding – the magical impact was rather miniscule. Blood-born magic users had no need to verbalise their intentions or spells. They didn’t need a wand to direct energy or intent – their eyes and fingers did the job effortlessly. A magic-user born of blood may appeal to a deity for a variety of reasons however it never ended well. Thus it had been made illegal to do so – frowned upon and considered a taboo; it remained a mystery as to how it was detected and what the punishement was. It was a complete mystery as to who would do the punishing in the first place.
However, a similarity existed – lost to history as to who discovered it – the use of gemstones and crystals. The Earth had seen such history, such achievement, such wonder but it had been soiled with war, genocide and destruction. The gems lay beneath the surface of the sad soil so it kept its blessed and magical nature. Some enhance particular magic while some absorbed them. Cory had been cautioned by his own deduction that a crystal or gem that contained impurities was not to be meddled with; magical fluctuations were bound to happen at a user’s choice of impure crystals… not all good.
The pale man hopped off the counter and rinsed the glass out under the kitchen tap. He found comfort in the simplistic design of the apartment. Although lavish and expensive it held its minimalistic nature. The apartment was spacious, mostly a grey colour scheme. The grey and its neutrality put Cory at ease as it reminded him of stone.
It reminded him of the colour his heart had been dipped in.
He turned away from the kitchen to go to his room and get dressed when Mark came out of the hallway deeply yawning. He wore only his boxers; Cory had become so desensitised to sex that his framed eyes did not wander nor ogle.
“Good morning,” the slightly-taller Mark had said with his boyish smile.
“Morning, I’m heading out,” Cory spoke, making his way to his room to change.
He could feel the scholarly excitement expand in his chest. He wanted to know his abilities. He wanted to greet and practice them – he was content with learning the basics firsts. Cory had practiced patience.
“Cory,” Mark grabbed his wrist before the halfling could pass him and pulled him back into the kitchen against the counter. Behind guarded eyes Cory studied the man, his ever so slightly tan skin, his thick brown eyebrows and dark hair, his slightly-high cheekbones and purple eyes; he would never get accustomed to the difference between Mark and his prior pack.
“What?” The halfling tilted his head in confusion. Mark stared at Cory with his purple eyes and Cory looked at him with his framed ones. Something was trying to be said but it wasn’t being verbalised. “Oh!” Cory realised, “They’re here now! I’ll hurry to my room so they don’t see me-” Preparing to rush to his room so as to not see a naked man or woman – or both at the same time – emerge from Mark’s room.
Mark kept a gentle grip on Cory’s shoulders, “I…didn’t have anyone over last night.”
The halfling furrowed his brows in confusion, “Okay, so what’s the problem?” He asked in slight worry. Mark seemed nervous – which was in extreme contrast with his laidback personality.
Mark dropped his head so Cory couldn’t see his face, just his dark brown hair that teetered on black in colour. “I want to be exclusive…” Mark spoke softly.
Cory gently tapped the sorcerer’s shoulder in bored sympathy, “It’ll be okay. I mean sure, It’ll take some time to get used to – but this person is clearly worth it s-” Mark looked up at Cory.
“I want to be exclusive with you.”
Cory smiled softly from the dream – which was in fact a memory. Marinating in the acceptance he felt from the longing memory; Cory wondered if missing a memory was to crave it in the future. His contemplation was interrupted by occasionally loud clanks, high-pitched metallic screeching and water gushing out of taps before ceasing then continuing. He frowned at the immediate annoyance following the lovely dream and memory.
He sat up and yawned. His eyes surveyed the cottage; the burned out candles had been replaced with new ones and there was more wood in the fireplace. He looked toward the source of the noise; immediately recognising the individual by his white hair.
“Grayson, what are you doing?” He was puzzled as to why Grayson was in the bathroom. He was also puzzled as to what exactly Grayson was doing.
The Alpha stood up, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up. I’m just fixing the piping to the tub so the water won’t be murky – the others are installing a tank outside with clean water,” he smiled slightly.
Cory narrowed his eyes angrily, the pure accusation reviving in brilliant blame, “Joy-”
The lean man held out his hands placidly, “I know, and I’m sorry I didn’t do this for her. I know it’s unacceptable and I’m not gonna ask for forgiveness. But, I just want you to be a little more comfortable. I guess that’s selfish too, ha…”
Cory took a shaky breath, “Grayson, I appreciate all this effort and trying but-”
“A few days, Cory; give me just a few more days – like we agreed. And, while you’re here, at least you’ll leave knowing Joy’s cottage is in a better state than what it had been in for years…” Grayson muttered sincerely. There’s a musical feel to a soft, gentle tone coming from a commanding man who had such authority. It was an insight into the sturdy Alpha; something more to him other than temper, strength, and status.
Cory threw his blankets to the side, sitting on the edge of the bed, “Pass me the hairbrush?”
Grayson looked around the bathroom, there wasn’t a mirrored cabinet attached to any of the grey brick walls. The kind of cabinet that would hold medicine, grooming items and products, “Wher-”
“On the side of the tub,” Cory lifted his heavily clothed arms above his head to stretch. Lucian’s brown hoodie was definitely much too large for him – and, truth be told, the halfblood got hot easily. The fabric was thick but he had to sleep under a blanket – it made him feel safe in his current setting.
Grayson walked over to Cory and handed the mixed-blood the hairbrush, the Alpha’s nose perked, as he smelled the scent of lust coming from a just woken up Cory. “Thanks,” he said and began brushing his hair. He ran the bristles through his long scarlet hair, sifting through knots.
Grayson’s mind pestered him. Who was Cory dreaming about? Was it Lucian?
Was it…him? That thought filled Grayson’s cup with the golden liquid of hope.
Cory struggled particularly with a severe knot behind his head. Brushing and brushing yet it resisted to come undone.
“That looks painful.”
“It’s not so bad, but it does hurt,” Cory answered through clenched teeth.
“Can I- Will you let me help?” Grayson asked.
The halfling stopped brushing and looked at the ivory-haired man, “I don’t think tha-”
“It’s just brushing hair, Cory. Not a date or proposal – just efficacy,” Grayson spoke, “If you’re okay with that?”
“Okay, grab the top of the strands where the know is and basically yank the brush through until it’s sent back to hair-hell.”
“Gotcha,” the Alpha understood and Cory turned so his back was to the taller man. Grayson could still smell the lust in Cory’s scent but he decided to channel the emotion of curiosity, teetering on jealousy, into brushing the knot out of his mate’s hair.
He gently gripped the top of the long scarlet hair, “No, grip it like you’re making a fist,” Cory instructed.
Grayson nodded and tightened his grip he then took the brush and gently ran it through the scarlet locks. He repeated this several times with no progress whatsoever, “Yank the bristles through, you’re caressing the hair. Really get in there.”
The Alpha swallowed thickly at those words coming from his mates lips, “Won’t that hurt?”
“Grayson, just yank!” Cory huffed.
The Alpha yanked the bristles through the knot and Cory gasped but held up a thumb for Grayson to continue. He did just that, only now noticing the difference in the smell of Cory’s hair from when he first picked him up from the train station. The Alpha yanked a few more times before the knot was completely out, “Okay, I think its out.”
“Thanks,” the halfling sighed, turning to sit back on the edge of the bed.
Grayson sat awkwardly with his hands on his knees as Cory ran the brush through his hair one last time to make sure no knots were hidden. “Your hair smells different,” the taller man commented.
“Hm? I used Joy’s old products – she doesn’t have conditioner so that’s why I’m getting such bad knots.”
“I can get you bett-”
“That’s okay…” Cory whispered, not wanting to continuously throw in Grayson’s face that he will not be staying with the Lightpaw pack. He didn’t know why he was bothering to be considerate – he pinned it down to minimizing Grayson’s emotional declarations.
“Right,” Grayson spoke as he went to the kitchen, “The wood is splintered and, let’s be real Cory, it’s falling apart. I’ll replace it with something better for you,” referring to the old stool.
Cory tied his hair up, some strands already falling loose, “Don’t, this isn’t my home. It was Joy’s and I soon suspect it will be Ambrose’s.”
Grayson lowered his gaze. Nothing he did or could do, would convince his mate to stay with him.
“Can I at least furnish it for you?” Grayson asked.
Cory looked at Grayson; an Alpha, the highest status in a pack was trying to gain his affection – or was it happiness? Disgust clouded Cory’s insides in its greenish hue – all because of the halfling’s intent of humiliation aimed at the leader of the pack.
“Sure, please furnish it,” Cory didn’t smile, but held gentleness in his eyes. He couldn’t bring himself to smile for Grayson; the half-blood didn’t want to lead the Alpha on. He would be polite as best he could but he would keep the necessary distance so that his ex-mate wouldn’t grow anymore attached than he already was.
Grayson picked the stool up and inspected its legs as well as the frayed cushion while Cory preoccupied himself with his bracelet. It was quiet for a few second as both men busied their minds.
“Did you sleep well?” Grayson asked.
“Yeah.”
Grayson hummed, “Any interesting dreams?” He placed the stool on its side as a nonchalant disguise of preoccupation.
Cory stopped his fascination with the bracelet briefly, suspiciously looking at Grayson, “Why do you ask?”
Grayson kept inspecting the splintered legs of the stool and countertop, “I don’t know what sorcerers’ dreams are like. Premonitions and stuff?”
Cory scoffed, “If only Ambrose didn’t bind my magic. I was just missing someone from home.”
Grayson clenched his jaw and took a silent breath, “Tell me about them?” Cory’s dream was not about him, it was about someone he missed – lustfully so.
“I… it doesn’t matter,” Cory returned to rolling down his sleeves.
Grayson stopped his fake preoccupation and finally looked at Cory, “Are you afraid to tell me?”
Cory shook his head slightly, “No, I’m just uncomfortable with telling you, well, anything.”
Grayson took a slight step back but humbled his shock with a nod, “That’s fair…”
The silence hung again. This time, however, it was Cory who stared at the Alpha curiously. Grayson was acting different.
Cory was curious as to who this different Grayson was, and where he came from.
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